


Receiving Gifts

by carolyncaves



Series: Love Languages [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, BrOT4, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Gladiolus Amicitia, but it leans toward the fluff/comfort i think, not the fun kind this time, pre-canon for one scene, road trip cuteness otherwise, vignettes i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 23:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolyncaves/pseuds/carolyncaves
Summary: 3+1: Gladio does his best to make sure his friends have what they need. It doesn't always go as planned ... but sometimes it's the thought that counts."For you." Gladio tossed the bag of chips over the side of the Regalia and into Prompto's lap. Prompto started."Sweet." Prompto ripped open the bag, grinning like a maniac. "I love the spicy ones. Thanks, dude."





	1. Prompto

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 of Love Languages, a series based vaguely on the 5 love languages by Gary Chapman. Because Gladio woke Noct up early that one time to look for flowers, so clearly he's all about the gifts. Can be read independently.
> 
> No beta, we die like writers. I apologize in advance. For several things haha.
> 
> I feel like some of these are a little less pure-sweetness than I was intending them to be ... but I said that about the last one, too, so I guess this is what's happening.

Gladio scanned Prompto's kitchen. He'd never been in the kid's house before. Prompto usually hung out at Noct's, and Gladio could see why. Not only was it a pain in the ass to get here from downtown, but the place felt kind of empty. Too big for what it contained. It was a three-room bungalow, but it felt like a hundred-room mansion with sheets thrown over the furniture in ninety-nine of them.

The only signs of life came from Prompto's room. Warm yellow light and shrieking laughter filtered down the hall. They were playing some racing game. It sounded like Prompto was winning.

They were here because Noct had demanded a change of scenery. He claimed he'd been cooped up in his apartment too long. Noct barely went anywhere but school and the Citadel, even in the summer, so Gladio didn't see what the difference was, but he'd driven the prince all the way out here just the same.

Now Gladio was looking for Prompto's wallet. When Prompto was over at Noct's place, he always left it sitting on the kitchen counter. In his own house he obviously had a different routine, but Gladio hadn’t managed to figure out what it was.

It had been over a year since Noctis started hanging out with Prompto, and Prompto would still flat-out refuse if anyone offered to spend money on him. When Gladio or Noct or Ignis tried to buy him food or arcade tokens or a cab ride, Prompto would practically drop his wallet trying to get his own money out fast enough.

At first, that's how Gladio knew Prompto was on the level. He'd had seen plenty of leeches try to worm their way into the prince's good graces, and Prompto definitely wasn't one of them.

Now that Prompto was Noct's best friend and they'd figured out Prompto didn't have any money, it was really fucking annoying.

Prompto shouted "Victory!" Noct groaned in defeat. And then Gladio heard the sound of footsteps.

"Dude, you were so close," Prompto said. He swung around the end of the counter and jerked open the fridge.

"I _know_ I was so close," Noct moaned, leaning dejectedly against the counter.

Gladio leaned over the open door of the fridge. "Snack time?"

"Definitely," Prompto said. "You want anything?"

This little idiot. "Nah, I'm good. Just gonna run down the hall for a second."

"Sure, sure." Prompto was staring into the fridge with deep concentration. He wasn't paying any attention to Gladio.

Gladio did head down the hall, but he passed the bathroom and made straight for Prompto's room. He noted it was messy-clean - a bunch of laundry piled in one corner, papers and miscellaneous junk shoved unceremoniously onto a bookshelf to get them out of the way - but his eyes immediately went to his target. Prompto's wallet was sitting on his nightstand.

Gladio didn't waste any time. This was a stealth operation. He pulled out his own bill fold, slid out a paper note - the biggest he could consistently get away with without raising suspicion - and flipped open Prompto's wallet. It was as painfully thin as always, and the kid didn't even have plastic to fall back on. Ignis was itching to get him a card - "What if he had an emergency," Iggy said whenever they talked about it, and Gladio completely agreed - but they both knew Prompto wouldn't accept it. Not yet.

It was a war of attrition, and Prompto was proving to be one tough opponent.

Prompto's transit card fell out - it was stamped 'insufficient funds', because of course it was. That explained Noct's motivation for this excursion. Gladio crouched down and slipped it back into place.

"What-"

Gladio looked up to find Prompto frozen in the doorway of his own room. One of his pale hands was clenched tight on the doorknob. His forehead wrinkled more and more with each passing second.

Gladio slowly straightened up. He held Prompto's wallet open in one hand, cash in the other.

"What are you doing?" Prompto finally managed to say.

Gladio was totally busted. He looked Prompto dead in the eye as he stuck the bill in the wallet, folded it closed, and replaced it on the nightstand. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh. So … so this whole time it’s been you?" Prompto sounded completely horrified.

Gladio had been sneaking cash into Prompto's wallet for the last six months. Prompto had frowned plenty of times when he went to pay for something - like he knew how much money he was supposed to have, and it didn't line up with what was actually there - but he'd never said anything about it.

Prompto made a small sound of distress. "Oh my gosh. How much ... how am I ever going to pay you back?"

Gladio wanted to hit something, but he restrained himself. That kind of thing rarely had a calming effect. "Am I missing something here? I don't remember loaning you any money."

"Gladio." Prompto's voice was small and strangled, and he'd surrendered the doorknob to wrap both arms around himself.

This fucking kid was going to be the death of him. Gladio went over to him - slowly, so Prompto wouldn't feel threatened, sometimes it was a damn inconvenience being twice as big as everyone else - and put a hand on Prompto's scrawny shoulder. "You know, if you'd just let us buy you shit, I wouldn't have to do this whole cloak-and-dagger routine."

"I don't hang out with Noct because I want you guys to buy me sh-shit." He stumbled over the curse word like it was unfamiliar in his mouth, and was gulping air like he was trying to keep himself from crying.

"I know," Gladio said. "Why the hell do you think I let you keep coming around? You're not looking for anything, and that's one of the things that makes you a good friend. But the irony is, since you're such a good friend, your friends are gonna want to help you out. And when those friends are the crown prince of Lucis and company, and have more money than the Six ... they're going to want to use some of it to make your life easier. Because _they_ want to be good friends, too."

Prompto stared at his carpet. His little forehead was still crinkled. "Dude, I was starting to think I had some kind of degenerative brain disease or something."

Gladio laughed, sliding his arm off Prompto's shoulder and slapping him on the back. "Sorry, kid. You brought it on yourself."

Prompto smiled back - and if he looked a little bleary, Gladio wasn't going to call him out on it. "So will you promise to, like, stop now?"

"Only if you promise to let my buy you stuff."

"Not, like, all the time, right?"

"Yeah, like all the time. I don't have a life, Prompto. I spend all my time following His Highness around. What else am I going to spend my money on?"

"I dunno. Those books you won't let me read?"

"A man can only read so much,” Gladio said. “Seriously, Prompto. I want to. It would make me happy."

Prompto seemed puzzled, like that concept didn't quite add up. But he nodded anyway. "Ohh-kay, then. I'll try, at least."

And just like that, the tide of the war turned dramatically in Gladio's favor.

\---------

"For you." Gladio tossed the bag of chips over the side of the Regalia and into Prompto's lap. Prompto started.

"Sweet!" Prompto ripped open the bag, grinning like a maniac. "I love the spicy ones. Thanks, dude."

Gladio leaned against the edge of the car, squinting as his eyes readjusted to the bright sun. Noct and Ignis had gone into the Crow's Nest at Longwythe to get the lay of the land. They had a little flexibility in their plans between Insomnia and Altissia, and they intended to make the most of it. "My pleasure."

It really was his pleasure. Prompto dug into the chips like he was starving, even though they'd had breakfast at Hammerhead barely two hours ago. Gladio listened to him munching fondly.

After a short but rocky period of adjustment, Prompto had come around to the fact that Gladio was never going to stop trying to buy him stuff and he just had to roll with it. These days, Prompto responded to any little thing as if he'd just been handed the moon, a fact that Gladio took complete and entirely selfish advantage of.

Buy Prompto a plate of fries at a diner? Overjoyed. Win him a plush chocobo at the Crown City Carnival? Ecstatic. And alcohol? It wasn't even fair. Prompto could hold his liquor about as well as a twelve-year-old child, but if you put a drink in front of Prompto and he still had enough motor control left to hold the glass, he'd toast your health and knock it back with effervescent delight. It was a-freaking-dorable.

He’d wondered if the effect would diminish eventually as Prompto got used to being treated. It hadn't. He was so responsive it had basically hard-wired a path into Gladio's brain at that point. Give Prompto something, _anything_ \- he was so damn easy to please - and get that sweet, sweet reaction. Guaranteed.

Prompto tilted his head back and shook the last few crumbs into his mouth. "Gladio, dude. That hit the spot."

"You've got orange cheese dust on your face," Gladio said.

"Whoops." Prompto rubbed his cheek with his arm. "Am I good?"

"Yeah," Gladio said. Ignis and Noct came out of the Crow's Nest, a flyer in Ignis' hand. Looked like they were going to hit up a hunt. "You're good."


	2. Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drink responsibly, kids.  
> Also, tw for vomiting (very brief).

They'd finally reached Lestallum, which meant Gladio had finally gotten to see Iris. The sun had set behind the buildings an hour ago and Gladio was still sweating bullets, but for the first time since Ignis came into that room at Galdin Quay with that paper showing that fucking headline, he felt almost at peace.

He and Iris had enjoyed a nice brother-sister dinner, just the two of them (thank fuck she'd made it out of that disaster zone), and now Iris had run off with a few of her friends to go stare dreamily at the power plant or something. Gladio was heading back to the Leville. He'd left Ignis a surprise, and he kind of hoped Ignis would offer to share it.

Gladio had known Ignis since before either of them could write their names, and what Ignis generally needed most was to freaking relax. Back in Insomnia, that meant letting Ignis use his homework passes, or trading duty shifts with Ignis so Ignis could get a full day off, or on one particularly memorable occasion convincing Dad to let him take Ignis to the cabin for a whole weekend, obligation-free.

But now they were years out of school, and there were no more duty shifts ... and no more Dad.

Gladio yanked his mind away from that one. He focused on his surroundings - the warm yellow lights overhead, the tinny music coming from some shopkeeper's radio, the clusters of people talking and laughing and alive, alive, alive.

Since the fall, Ignis was up early every morning, and still awake when Gladio turned in half the time, and drinking twice as much Ebony as he used to. Gladio couldn't really blame him - he was feeling the pressure too. They had to do what they had to do. But it meant that Ignis _really_ needed to relax. Now more than ever.

Gladio had thought that one over. It was a tough nut to crack. In the end, even though it felt like giving up, Gladio had bought Ignis a bottle of some really nice scotch. Not ideal, since it didn't really take anything off Ignis' plate … but it seemed classy enough for Ignis’ taste and hopefully it would help take the edge off. If only temporarily. Gladio had tied a big sloppy bow on it and stuck it in Ignis' suitcase that afternoon.

It was just as hot in the lobby of the Leville as it was outside, and twice as stuffy. Prompto had been whining about it since they got there, and even Gladio had to admit he thought these people were a little nuts. Surely they’d heard about AC.

When he got to the room, the door was unlocked and the lights were out. Instantly, his threat sense was elevated. Noct and Prompto had plans to go to the overlook so Prompto could take some pictures during the golden hour or whatever, but Ignis should have been here. He wouldn't have left the door unlocked if he'd left. His phone was on the bed.

Gladio edged silently into the room. "Ignis?"

"Here," came a soft response from the other side of the room, Ignis' formal drawl.

"Six, you scared me." Gladio searched for the light switch. "Why are you sitting here in the dark?" Of course it was behind the door.

"It was light when I started. The ssun set."

Gladio flipped on the lights and his heart dropped out of his chest.

Ignis was slouched in one of the room's padded chairs. His head was tipped back and his legs were splayed forward and he was tenuously balancing the bottle of scotch on the arm of the chair with one hand. It was half empty.

"Fucking Six, Ignis, did you drink all that yourself?"

"Welll," Ignis began, and for the first time Gladio realized how unsteady his voice was. "It was a vvery thoughtful gift. I poured myself a glass to start. And then. I couldn't think of a compelling reason to stop." He squinted up at Gladio. "How was your dinner?"

By that point Gladio had made it to Ignis' side. His hair was all messed up and tear tracks lined his face. Gladio had never seen Ignis like this. Never even seen him drunk. Gladio's heart was pounding in his chest. "It was nice," Gladio said, as neutrally as he could. "More nutritious than yours, by the looks of it." Gladio wrapped two hands around the one of Ignis' that was holding the bottle and carefully lifted it out of Ignis' grip. Ignis let him, his hand completely limp.

"Are you anngry?" Ignis struggled to sit up. Gladio had to hold onto him to keep him from pitching to one side.

"Of course I'm not angry," Gladio said. "I just ... I thought you'd ... you seem kind of upset."

"That wwas the point, wasn't it?" Ignis' breath skipped slightly. Like he was almost crying. Again. "To hhelp me chheer up? I'm not quite there yet, I'm afraid."

Gladio felt like a gigantic prick. Sure, hindsight was twenty-twenty. But how could he have ever thought leaving this ridiculous ball of stress and despair _alone_ with a bottle of booze was going to help? "That's okay, Ignis. You're allowed to be upset." He squeezed Ignis' hand tighter.

"No," Ignis said. "I simmply ... it's all simply ..." He kind of curled in on himself, trying to hide his face and the tears that were starting to slide down it.

"Ignis." Gladio crouched in front of him, gripping his arm.

"Gllladiol-, Gladiolus." Ignis was crying for real now. "You don't haave to ..."

"Shit, Iggy, come here."

Ignis ended up on his knees on the floor, his face pressed into Gladio's shoulder. Ignis' shirt was rumpled and sticky with sweat, so unlike his prim-and-perfect self. "I'm ssorry," Ignis choked.

"Are you kidding me?" Gladio pulled Ignis tight to him. Hardcore bear-hug. "This is ... fuck, a pretty reasonable reaction, considering the way everything's gone completely to hell. _I'm_ sorry, for ... for not getting it."

Ignis' hand slid up to rest on Gladio's shoulder. There was a growing patch of dampness on Gladio's shoulder that had nothing to do with sweat and everything to do with tears. And Gladio held him and rubbed his back and stroked his hair, held him together so he could fall apart, which is exactly what he should have done from the gods-damned start, what he would have done if he'd had half a brain in his head.

Gladio had gotten there eventually. He just hoped he hadn't inflicted too much collateral damage on the way.

He let Ignis wear himself out, the buoyant sounds of Lestallum at night filtering in through the open balcony doors. The perfect atmosphere for catharsis. Ignis was just starting to get his breathing under control when a loud burst of laughter echoed down the hall of the hotel. Prompto. Prompto and Noct were coming. Ignis stirred, clumsily tried to push Gladio away.

Ignis would never want the others to see him like this.

Gladio lunged for the door, almost knocking Prompto over as he charged into the hallway. He yanked the door shut behind him.

"What the fuck," Noct said flatly.

"I need you guys to run an errand for me," Gladio said. He thought fast. "Take the Regalia to the gas station and fill her up. And while you're there, get her looked over by the mechanic. We've been on the road a while. Then park her back at the overlook."

Prompto and Noctis stared at him. "But," Prompto said. "It's night."

"So?"

Noct eyed the door behind him. "Is something up with Specs?"

"Huh? Ignis is fine."

Gladio must have been a crappy liar, or maybe Gladio looked a little disheveled himself, because they clearly weren’t buying it. Noct looked up at him thoughtfully. Eventually, he shrugged. "If you say so. C'mon, Prompto."

At least Noctis understood the concept of discretion. Maybe all those years of charm lessons weren’t a complete failure after all. Gladio let himself back through the door.

Ignis wasn't by the chair anymore, wasn't even in the room, and for a moment of pure terror Gladio wondered if he'd stumbled out onto the balcony. Then he heard a puking sound from the bathroom.

Typical Ignis - even more hammered than he'd ever been in his life, he'd had the presence of mind to make it to the tub and stick his head over the edge. Maybe the toilet had seemed like too small a target. It didn't matter - it was mostly liquid anyway. Ignis clung to the edge of the tub with wobbling arms.

"I've got you," Gladio said, kneeling down to grip Ignis' shoulders. "You all done?"

At Ignis' nod, Gladio eased him back so he was tucked right up at his side. A few drops of liquid had splashed back on his glasses. Gladio carefully tugged them off his face and hooked them over his own collar. He'd wash them later.

Ignis blinked his green eyes hazily. “You’re a good friend,” he pronounced.

Gladio snorted. “I’m going to have to disagree with you on that one based on where we are right now. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Gladio got Ignis up off the ground, helped him lean over the sink to wash his face and rinse out his mouth, and got him some water. Under the circumstances, it was absolutely not funny that Ignis had to hold the glass in both hands like a toddler, and that he _still_ needed help to actually drink from it. But under different circumstances, it absolutely would have been.

“Apologies,” Ignis mumbled when he dumped water down his front.

Gladio probably deserved that.

Gladio coaxed Ignis out of his already-sweaty, now-soaked shirt and dumped him into the bed. He was out like a burned-out light. Gladio left him alone just long enough to do a quick once-over of the room. The boys would probably guess at the broad strokes the next morning - Ignis was going to be incredibly, unmistakably hungover - but Gladio cleaned up the most incriminating evidence.

He stuck the bottle of scotch in Ignis' bag. Ignis probably wouldn't want it after drinking himself sick on the stuff, but the look on his face when he found it would be pretty entertaining.

\---------

The next time they stayed in Lestallum for a few days, Gladio got Ignis a very different present.

"A spa?" Ignis scrutinized the paper Gladio had given him, straightening his glasses with his free hand.

"Yeah, you know - massages, mud baths, cucumbers on your eyes. All that relaxing shit."

Ignis eyed Gladio over the paper, and Gladio knew exactly what he was thinking. _No emotional breakdowns or vomiting in the bathtub required._

"Well, what do you think? Does this get me back in your good graces?"

"You're always in my good graces," Ignis replied. "You know I feel ... more than a little chagrin about that incident myself. But to answer your other question, it sounds lovely."

"Great. I booked you for four hours this afternoon."

"Four hours?" Ignis frowned. "I also need to do laundry, collect the rewards for three hunts, and go to the market to replenish our supply of ingredients."

"Don't worry," Gladio said, kicking his feet up on the bed. He flashed Ignis his evilest grin. "All that stuff will still be waiting for you when you're done."

Ignis balled up the paper and threw it at him, but when he left for the spa an almost-smile was on his face, so Gladio chalked that one up in the 'win' column.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noctis definitely thought they were doing it.
> 
> On a related note ... I did write an [extra scene](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14856596) for this, of the decidedly Gladnis variety, if anyone's interested.


	3. Noctis

"NOCT," Gladio roared, "watch yourself!"

"You watch _your_ self," Noct griped. He zipped across the battlefield and appeared in front of the coeurl, sword flying.

Gladio hated coeurls. They were too damned fast, and they hit too damned hard. And for some reason Noctis seemed hell-bent on getting himself killed by this one. Gladio charged after him, greatsword high.

Noct was dancing around the thing, landing hit after hit, but he was forced to warp away to avoid a brutal swipe of its claws. He'd barely re-materialized before the coeurl was leaping toward him, jaws wide.

Gladio threw himself between them, and the coeurl hit him like a freight train. He was on the ground, sharp claws pressed mercilessly into his shoulders. His weapon was between its teeth and his body but it wouldn't be for long ...

And then Noct was there, in a flash of blue, and the coeurl was off him. Between an explosion of fire and a hail of bullets and Noct's relentless sword, the thing went down for good by the time Gladio got back on his feet.

"Great work," Gladio said. But when Noct turned around, he had that bratty look on his face. The one he'd heard Prompto describe as 'murderous'.

"What was that?" Noct demanded.

"What was what?"

"That hero shit." Noct stormed toward him.

If Noct wanted to go, Gladio would be happy to oblige. "What, you mean the part where I stopped you from getting mauled by a coeurl? That was me saving your ass, also known as me doing my fucking job." Gladio heard Ignis sigh, but he wasn't really paying attention to Ignis right then.

Noct froze, rooted in place. "I can handle myself in a fight. You should know that by now. You don't have to ... throw yourself in front of me for no good reason."

There were a lot of things Gladio wanted to say. 'Sure, when I'm around to clean up after you.' 'Oh, really? I hadn't noticed.' 'I wouldn't have to if you could keep up.' But none of them were true, and all of them would make Ignis sigh at him again. So instead, Gladio said, "I don't need a good reason to put myself between you and something that's trying to hurt you. That's exactly where I want to be."

Noctis kind of deflated a little. "Gladio. I. Look."

Gladio laughed. "That's the arrangement, princess, and if you don’t like it, too bad. You're about twenty years too late to do anything about it." He slung one arm over Noct's shoulders and roughed up his hair with the other.

"Oh my gods, get off me." Noct pushed at him like the weak weakling he was. Gladio surrendered him anyway. Noct rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but he was also trying not to smile.

Good. Noct had better get comfortable with the idea. Gladio gave his life to Noctis a long time ago, and he had no intention of taking it back.

\---------

Alstor Slough was damp and uncomfortable even in the best weather. The day they went out to search for Sania's frogs, it was miserable. Chilly rain started falling from the sky around noon and continued in a relentless drizzle all day. Not hard enough that they would seriously consider stopping to take shelter, but hard enough that within a couple of hours they were all wet to the skin and cold to the bone.

Gladio had a tremendous amount of respect for the professor, but by the time they were done the cloudy sky was almost dark and Gladio never wanted to see another frog in his life.

They were already wet, so no one tried to suggest finding a hotel to take shelter from the rain. They just trudged to the nearest haven and started setting up camp. By the time Gladio had the tent pitched, the drizzle had dissolved into a light mist.

"Seriously?" Prompto whined. "It only stops once we have a fabric roof we could actually put over our heads?"

"Look on the positive side," Ignis said. "I'll now have the opportunity to prepare a warm dinner."

That perked Prompto right up. "Oh my gosh, yes, please. And, oh man, we can have a fire!" Prompto practically flung himself to his knees on the stone haven to start arranging the kindling.

"Does someone want to help me lash down the tent?" Gladio asked. "Noct?"

Noct was sitting in one of the camp chairs, head tipped back, eyes closed. Like he thought it was bed time already.

"Uh," Noct said. "Give me a minute."

Gladio huffed. "Whatever, Your Laziness." He could do it himself.

It wasn't until Gladio finished rolling out the sleeping bags and came back out of the tent that he noticed the tautness of Noctis' jaw and the way his hands were clenched over the arms of the chair. Then he felt like a damned idiot.

"How's your back, Noct?"

That got Ignis' and Prompto's attention immediately, but Gladio ignored them. He watched Noct's eyes blink open. The fact that he didn't immediately say 'fine' meant it had to be pretty gods-damned bad already.

"Ignis ..."

"You'll need to take a muscle relaxant immediately." Ignis was already moving. He presented a cup of water and a pill to Noct seconds later.

Gladio kept an eye on the way Noct moved as he took the pill. He held his neck and torso rigidly still, moved his arms slowly and carefully. His face was a mask.

"Do you want to lie down?" Gladio asked.

"I'd rather sit here and not move for the rest of my life," Noct managed.

"You would be more comfortable if you changed into dry clothes," Ignis said. "The cold and the damp are likely what aggravated your back in the first place."

Noct looked mournfully up at Gladio.

"You heard the man," Gladio said. "Prepare for liftoff."

He tried not to jostle Noct as he picked him up out of the chair, but Noct hissed as Gladio took his weight. The first in a long series of little agonies Gladio was about to inflict on him, if past experience was anything to go by. Gladio ducked carefully into the tent.

"I'm going to set you on your feet," Gladio said. Noct just dragged in a gasping breath as Gladio and gravity forced him to change his posture. His fingernails dug fiercely into Gladio’s shoulder, but once he was upright he seemed steady enough to remain standing under his own power. "Sorry," Gladio said as he dug through Noct's bag. "For hassling you earlier."

"It's fine," Noct said.

Gladio returned to him with pajamas. The pants were pretty easy - Noct could brace himself on Gladio's shoulders and lift one leg at a time. The shirt was harder. Noct didn't want to raise his arms over his head. Eventually Gladio threatened to destroy the shirt to get it off him. With a strangled moan, Noct got his elbows halfway up in front of him. Enough for Gladio to work with. Wet shirt off, dry shirt on.

Then it was time to lie down. "Hang tight half a second," Gladio said. He started bunching up some blankets on top of Noct's sleeping bag, a pitiful imitation of the foam mattress Noctis would have access to in a perfect world.

Noct cried out behind him. He'd gotten down on his knees on his own.

"Easy there," Gladio said.

Noct didn't respond. He was eyeing his pillow - so close and yet so very far - with something between desperation and fear. His breathing was fast and unsteady, harsh through clenched teeth. He kind of tried to tilt from the vertical, but he retreated quickly with a groan.

"It's all right," Gladio said. "We'll go down together." Gladio wrapped one arm around Noct's back and used the other to support Noct's head and neck. “Ready?”

“Just do it.”

Gladio tilted them both to the side, as carefully as he could. It didn’t matter. As if against his will, a terrible sound tore out of Noct’s throat, a ragged “aaaAAAAAHH”. And then they were down.

"All right, we made it. How's the padding?" Gladio reached to adjust the blankets.

"Wait," Noct said. "Please wait." There were tears in his eyes.

"Yeah, okay, we'll wait." Glaido carefully settled his hand on Noct's waist, a gentle pressure to keep him from tipping forward or back. "Just take it easy."

Noct's face twitched with pain. _Excruciating_ \- that's how Noct had described his muscle spasms to Gladio once. Gladio believed him. That's about what it would take for Noct to act like this. He was a total princess, but he hated being the damsel in distress. It was weird, having Noct be this vulnerable, this reliant on Gladio’s help.

It killed Gladio that there was nothing he could do about it. No enemy to fight, no hit to take. The problem was with Noct’s own body.

"Okay," Noct said. "Go ahead."

Gladio didn't move. "Are you good here?"

Noct cracked one eye to look at him.

"Are you in a good place right now? Is there anything you want me to move?"

"Your arm is under my head."

"I know, brainless, I'm asking you if you're comfortable like this. Relatively speaking."

Noct struggled with that one. "Yeah, but ..."

"Then we're good," Gladio said. He pressed his fingers gently into Noct's side in finality.

Noct took an almost-steady breath. "But you're trapped."

"Trapped implies I'm trying to leave. News flash, I'm not going anywhere."

“Right.” Noct’s eyes fell shut. His body relaxed slightly under Gladio’s hand. “I know. And I. Thanks.”

Gladio rubbed his thumb against Noct’s soft pajama top. "Sure thing."

They lay there like that for a long time. Noct's breath caught once every minute, then once every two minutes, then once every five minutes. He slowly relaxed until he was slumped against Gladio with the boneless weight of a powerful muscle relaxer and the deep exhaustion that follows pain.

They’d reached the part where Gladio could roll Noct onto his back, cover him with a blanket, and go eat some dinner or get some reps in or something. But Gladio didn't really want to do any of that.

Instead, he pulled Noct closer, alive and warm and strong against him. Noct made a soft noise and nudged his nose against Gladio's collarbone. Gladio let himself fall asleep to the rhythm of his king's smooth, steady breathing against his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no personal experience with back problems, so this is not even remotely grounded in reality.


	4. Gladio

It was a bright, beautiful day on the beach near Caem, and a seagull was ruining Gladio's mountain pose.

He'd just gotten still for a little standing meditation when it started swooping and cawing and making it impossible for Gladio to find his zen. He'd already finished his strength routine, so it wasn't that big a deal. It was just kind of disappointing.

It was Gladio's birthday, and he was ... bummed, to be honest. Not that he had any right to sulk. That morning the guys had sung for him and given him a gift (a new CD for the car) and had him blow out a candle on top of a cinnamon swirl muffin.

And Gladio really did appreciate it. He'd felt all warm and fuzzy that they'd gone out of their way to get him a candle. He'd really enjoyed that muffin - Ignis had outdone himself. They were on the road, so there was no way to do anything more elaborate. Gladio was a big boy. He could handle it.

He’d just been feeling kind of hollow lately, and the extra reminder that everything was different now really wasn't helping.

With that thought, Gladio's last fleeting hope that he might get centered evaporated. He rolled up his mat, flipped the stupid bird the bird, and started heading back to the haven.

It was only mid-afternoon, but they'd been cruising along the coast around lunchtime when Ignis had commented that the day and the ocean were too nice for them to stay cooped up in the car. Noct and Prompto had pounced on that suggestion like a pack of hungry voreteeth, so they were taking the rest of the day off.

Gladio hadn't even teased them about being lazy. He'd just decided to enjoy it. Happy birthday to him.

Speaking of Noctis and Prompto, they were racing down the rocky slope toward him.

"Heyyyy Gladio," Prompto said, skidding to a stop. "Done so soon?"

"Yeah. Why, having too much fun without me?"

"Nah, no way. You just usually take longer."

"Cut my session short," Gladio said, making to go around them.

"Wait," they both said in tandem.

"Noct was just about to go fishing," Prompto said. "Why don't you come with us?"

"Uh," Gladio said, "let me at least go put my mat down first. See what's shaking."

"Prompto will run it up there for you," Noct said.

They were both standing anxiously in his way. Gladio sighed. "Are you two plotting something?"

Prompto clapped a hand over his mouth. "No, no, not plotting anything." But he was grinning like a loon, so Glaido knew he was lying.

Noct heaved a sigh. "Gods, Prompto, you're so obvious. Look, will you just go away?"

These losers. These crafty, crafty losers. The whole thing was a setup. Right down to the cinnamon swirl muffin.

It probably would have been nicer to let them think they were getting away with it, but Gladio couldn't keep the grin off his face. "You were trying to surprise me."

Prompto beamed. "You're surprised right now, aren't you? So we _did_ surprise you, even if it was a little earlier than we were planning."

Noct looked like he wanted to summon a dagger from the armiger and end it all. "It would have been way better if everything was ready, but then I guess Prompto would have needed to _keep it together for two consecutive seconds_."

"Lighten up, Noct, it'll be great," Gladio said.

"You don't even know what it is!"

"Doesn't matter. I already love it." And he did. Gladio's heart was trying to escape from his chest. "Come on, princess. Don't sulk. You'll ruin my birthday."

Noct sighed again, but the corners of his mouth turned up. "Fine. Come on, check it out. Specs is gonna flip, though. I'm telling him it was your fault."

"Aw, man, are you really going to do me like that?"

When the three of them came up onto the haven, Ignis nearly dropped the mixing bowl he was holding.

"We're busted," Noct said.

"Apparently. Well, hopefully the party will still be enjoyable regardless. Happy birthday, Gladiolus."

When Ignis said 'party', he meant it. They'd strung colored lights between Ignis' cooking station and the tent, and the camp chairs were festooned with paper streamers. Something delicious-looking was marinating in a bowl covered with cling wrap, and an unfrosted sheet cake was cooling on the worktop. The shape was kind of tapered, and it was curved at both ends. Clearly Gladio was losing his mind, but it almost looked like ...

"It's a Cup Noodle cake," Prompto said. "I mean, it's actually a vanilla cake, but Iggy's going to frost it like the label. It was as close as he'd let us get."

"Yes, I'm afraid I did override any thought of actually serving Cup Noodles for dinner," Ignis said. "However ..." He looked searchingly at Noct.

"I mean, if we're just giving it all away now, go right ahead." Noct slumped into a camp chair dejectedly, but when Prompto shoved a party hat into his hand he put it on without hesitation.

Ignis ducked into the tent and reemerged a few seconds later with a plastic card in his hands. "A gift card. It contains enough gil for thirty servings. From all of us, to you - may you enjoy Cup Noodles to your heart's content."

"For like five days," Prompto shot.

Noct laughed. "I dunno, I think he could empty it in three."

"Yes, well." Ignis handed the card to Gladio. "Hopefully he'll have the sense to pace himself."

"No promises," Gladio said. "Thanks, guys. This is incredible. I don't even know what to say."

"Say 'yes, Prompto, I would loooove to be on your team for charades'."

Gladio _would_ love to be on Prompto's team for charades. The kid was a whiz - good at guessing and willing to go the extra mile to get his point across when acting. Unlike some people. More specifically, Noct. "Done."

"Very well," Ignis said, eyeing Noct skeptically.

They got four rounds in before Ignis had to stop and ice the cake. Noctis and Prompto started bickering over King’s Knight. Gladio collapsed into a chair to bask in sun. The hollow feeling inside him was gone, filled with light and laughter.

Gladio must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew the sky was orange, the air smelled like cooking meat, and Prompto was looming over him with his camera out. "Can I help you?" Gladio asked.

"Golden hour," Prompto said. "You would not believe the way the sun is hitting your abs."

Gladio laughed. “Oh, I believe it.”

Noct was lounging in the next chair over, fiddling with his phone. He shot Gladio a good-natured smirk. "You never get to make fun of me for napping again."

"Like that's gonna stick." Gladio rolled his shoulders. They made a series of loud, incredibly satisfying cracks. "I can see why you like it so much, though."

“Oh my gosh, hold still,” Prompto said.

"Take a picture, why don’t you, it'll last longer."

"I mean, that's literally what I'm doing, sooooo ..." Click. "Gotcha."

"Dinner is served," Ignis said.

That got Gladio and Noctis out of their chairs in a hurry. The aroma was almost irresistible, but Gladio found himself distracted by the dessert.

"Iggy, I didn’t know you were a cake artist."

"Come now. All it required was a piping bag and a steady hand."

Ignis had lovingly rendered each and every red and gold line on the Cup Noodle packaging onto the white frosted cake. "It's a masterpiece. Seriously. I can't wait to destroy it and stuff my face with cake." Gladio pulled Ignis into a crushing one-armed hug.

Ignis jabbed at his side. "You're too kind," he deadpanned.

Dinner tasted as great as it smelled, and the cake was delicious. Gladio didn't know how Ignis had gotten it so perfectly baked out here in the middle of freaking nowhere, but he wasn't about to question his good fortune. In baked goods or in friends.

Much later, when Noct and Prompto had surrendered and crawled into the tent to zonk out, Gladio sat looking out across the dark ocean. The steady crash of the waves was pretty relaxing. Almost zen.

Ignis must have finished up the dishes, because he came over and sat down beside Gladio. There was something in his hands. It caught the firelight.

"I can't believe you kept that," Gladio said.

"I very nearly threw it in the nearest garbage bin that next morning," Ignis said, examining the label on the bottle of scotch. The one Gladio had given him, the one he'd drunk himself silly on in Lestallum. "But it was a very generous gift, regardless of my inability to handle it properly. It seemed a shame to let such good spirit go to waste." Ignis inclined the bottle toward Gladio. "Shall I pour you a glass?"

"Sure. You joining me?"

"I think not," Ignis said, working the stopper out of the bottle with his long fingers. "Even the smell of it is enough to make me shudder."

"Fair enough," Gladio said. "I got wicked drunk on a bottle of my dad's rum once and I still can't go near the stuff."

"I remember," Ignis said, pouring a measure of the amber liquor into a cup. He passed it to Gladio. "You were thirteen at the time, I believe. I'm a decade older and apparently none the wiser."

"You're just a late bloomer. Congratulations on catching up."

Ignis huffed. He reached over and set the bottle on the ground beside Gladio's chair. "Well, I hope you enjoy it. Responsibly, over the course of several weeks."

"Will do." Gladio took a sip of his drink. Damn, he really did have spectacular taste. "Thanks, Ignis. For everything. You guys really had me going."

"It was our pleasure. I'm just glad we were able to pull it off."

Gladio was, too. It was more than he’d ever expected. It was perfect. He leaned back and reveled in the alcohol warming his belly, the ease of his friend’s company, and the dazzling light of the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for reading! I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Also, the comments and kudos on this series have given me life. Y'all are unreal.
> 
> Feel free to come talk to me on tumblr [@carolyncaves](https://carolyncaves.tumblr.com/).


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